The Al Tudor Interview
Conducted by Paul Bax
When and how did you first start your training in martial
arts?
My formal training in oriental martial arts began with
Kenpo and Kajukenbo at a Tracy’s Karate Studio owned by
Sifu Buck Lewis in Cincinnati, Ohio, in the summer of 1973.
I had been checking out several other schools for quite
some time before that, including Victor Moore’s school,
and, of course, some of the Tae Kwon Do franchises in the
area. None of them impressed me as much as the Tracy’s
school. Plus, I really didn’t have the cash before that. I
had been casually training with a friend who had studied a
bit of Tae Kwon Do and Judo prior to the beginning of my
formal training.
How
did you first hear about Bruce Lee and his art of Jeet Kune
Do?
Like most of my generation, I first heard of Bruce Lee in
1966 when he appeared as Kato in ABC’s Green Hornet
television series. I think I may actually have first heard
the term “Jeet Kune Do” when Lee appeared in the Longstreet
pilot episode “Way of the Intercepting Fist” in 1971. It’s
possible I read of it earlier in a TV Guide article
highlighting the Hornet series or in an issue of Black Belt
magazine, but who can really remember that long ago.
What
was it about JKD that led you away from traditional martial
arts?
Nothing. To the contrary, JKD led and leads me to look
deeper into the arts I have studied. I believe Lee’s
enunciated precepts and methodologies help me to understand
those arts more completely and to internalize the
principles that underlie every martial art.
JKD
has gone through a lot of phases over the years due to
different theories on how the art should be taught.
Were you ever a student of“JKD
Concepts”?
One of the first times I trained with Dan Inosanto in 1982
he handed out an article entitled Jeet Kune Do. It referred
to JKD as a concept conceived by Bruce Lee and went on to
discuss “JKD concepts.” The term Jeet Kune Do Concepts is
also on the letter from Dan that accompanied my certificate
of instructorship (apprentice level, now expired) in
Filipino martial arts. So, I suppose the answer is yes.
If I seem vague, it’s because I have never thought of JKD
as having phases. My own journey has been comprised of
various stages as I’ve explored different arts or disparate
training methods, or simply took a break from all of the
above. But, JKD is what it is and hasn’t changed, although
my understanding of it may have. Perhaps that is the nature
of the phases to which you refer: different understandings
of martial arts by disparate people at various stages of
their own journeys. It seems entirely appropriate that the
“concepts” written about, practiced, discussed and taught
by Bruce Lee should be different when written about,
interpreted, practiced, discussed and taught by others.
They are, after all, not Bruce Lee. If there is one thing
about which everyone seems to agree regarding JKD, it is
that it is meant to help each individual find their own
way. These so called “phases” may be an indication that it
is meeting its design specs.
Explain
your training under Steve Golden. Are you an
instructor under him?
When his job required he visit Cincinnati in the spring of
1978, Steve Golden appeared out of the blue at the martial
arts studio run by Tim Coletta and myself. He first visited
on an evening when I was absent and met with Tim. After
Steve left, Tim called me at home and very excitedly told
me about this guy who had walked in and claimed to be an
actual student of Bruce Lee. Cincinnati is my home town,
but my skepticism at the claim could certainly have
qualified me as a Missouri native. Tim said this guy was
incredible and was going to be back the next evening and
that I simply HAD to come in and see him for myself.
I made sure to be there. Steve arrived and proceeded to
rock my world. He was only with us for a few days that
visit. He astounded me, confused me and physically hurt me.
He returned a couple more times that year, and each time he
left us literally stunned. We were stunned at what he could
do. We were stunned by the insights he brought to us. We
were stunned at how inadequate our martial art seemed to be
when compared to what Steve was doing, which he called The
Twin Dragons Method.
Each time he left, Steve assured us he would probably never
be back, so when he left for the “last time” Tim and I
looked at each other and wondered aloud what we should do
now. We were very serious about teaching our students only
the best in martial arts. Steve, we thought, had clearly
demonstrated that we were missing mark with our Kenpo. The
problem was, he had not really given us anything to take
it’s place — at least not in the typical sense we had come
to expect during our previous martial art training. Steve
didn’t do techniques per se, but, instead, talked a bit
about structure and a lot about energy, timing and
distance. He kept insisting that we just had to “feel’ it.
I spoke with Steve via phone and shared our feelings that
we had to leave Kenpo behind but had nothing with which to
replace it. He told me that he never meant to imply that
Kenpo was no good. He said he actually liked Kenpo (he is
most proud, he has said, of the black belt he received from
Ed Parker). The stuff he had shown us was just another way
of looking at the martial arts in general and Kenpo in
particular.
By nature I am a very left-brained person— I analyze
everything. Kenpo seemed perfect for me: an “alphabet of
motion” that could be put together into various techniques
to fit any situation. Very linear. Very structured. At
least that’s how I saw it at the time, I don’t now. Instead
of set answers, Steve insisted that, whatever the
situation, I had to fit into it and find the right
“energy,”use the right “distance and timing,” achieve the
correct “rhythm” I had to “feel” the martial arts. This
drove me crazy.
Tim and I struggled for some time. We practiced the things
Steve had shown us — or at least tried. Like I said, at
first, there weren’t that many specific exercises. Mostly
we thought a lot about energy and tried to “feel” it. We
made some progress. Often it happened without warning and
we would look at each and say, “What was that? How did that
happen? Did you cause that? Let’s try it again.” Most of it
felt accidental, at first. We kept practicing and
experimenting. I kept attempting to analyze what made The
Twin Dragons Method tick. It wasn’t coming together fast
enough for me.
That summer I went to see Steve at his home in Eugene,
Oregon. I knew that I would have a scant few days visit and
had to make the very best of my time with him and his
students. I resolved to make a supreme effort NOT to
analyze every experience with Steve. Instead I would “feel”
it. Failing that, I would at least “see” it in my mind as
he did whatever he might do. I am also a visual artist, so
I have a fairly well developed visual memory and, because
of my martial arts practice, some ability to translate
those mental visuals into mimicked action.
So I watched and I imitated without really understanding
what I was doing or, worse (for me), why I was doing it.
When I got back to Cincinnati, Tim Coletta asked, “What did
you learn?”
I would close my eyes, call up the visuals and imitate the
energy I thought I saw in Steve. Suddenly Tim was flying
across the room. Suddenly he was repeatedly astounded,
confused and physically hurt by me. Tim referred to the
change he felt at that time as my “going into hyperspace.”
My art changed. I still had few specific JKD techniques.
Oddly, though, if I applied the same process to my Kenpo
techniques, they became faster, more powerful and extremely
effective.
Our Kenpo started to change. There was the old way— the way
we used to do it— and the new way, which we called “ala
Golden.” Kenpo “ala Golden” didn’t look much like the old
Kenpo as we had practised it at all.
So that’s how our training with Steve began. He visited us
several more times, gave seminars for our students, talked
to us on the phone a lot. We visited him and attended
“Golden Summer Camps”and some of his other seminars. Always
he impressed me with his ability and one other trait: his
niceness. I never knew there were people as nice as Steve
Golden before he walked into our life.
Today, I could show you a lot more in the way of specific
exercises and techniques that Steve has since shared. Maybe
he was showing them to me from the beginning and I was so
overwhelmed by his awesome ability that I just couldn’t
process them. Knowing Steve, it’s also just as possible he
recognized early that, if he showed me too many techniques,
I — in my analytical, left-brained fashion — would latch
onto them and never really get to the essence of the art.
After I started to “feel” the essence and didn’t really
need set techniques, he would show me specific exercises to
help me develop better energy or tighten up my structure.
He’s still doing that.
Steve certified me as a fully qualified instructor in the
art and methods of Jeet Kune Do as of March, 1998.
What
other Lee students have you trained with if any and how did
the training differ from Steve Golden's?
In seminar I have trained briefly with Richard Bustillo,
Larry Hartsell, Herb Jackson, and Ted Wong. In addition, I
stopped counting at over 300 hours of seminar training with
Dan Inosanto.
Each are completely different people with different body
types and personalities, so, appropriately, each had a
different approach. Famously, Hartsell is known for his
focus on grappling and the ground game; Bustillo puts a lot
of emphasis on boxing skills; etc.
The biggest difference between anyone and Steve, for me, is
a matter of personal attention. Steve has always been very
open and available to answer any question and, because of
the circumstances in which we meet, can avoid boilerplate
responses — that is, he tries to fit his instruction to the
person and the situation. As such, from Steve I feel I have
really gained an understanding of the essence of the art.
For instance, it’s just not always possible in a seminar
situation to spend an hour on chi sao with one person and
really help them get the energy. Steve has done that with
me.
I learned more boxing drills from Bustillo, more grappling
moves from Hartsell, great power tips from Jackson, some
good Jun Fan entries from Wong, and more Kali drills from
Inosanto than one can shake a stick at; but, I learned how
to fill each of these vessels with real working essence
from Steve.
What
do you think is the biggest misconception that people have
about Jeet Kune Do as Bruce Lee taught
it?
That it is this or that. That it is a one-size-fits-all
thing like most “styles” seem to try to be. That it is set
and can be learned in “10 easy lessons.”
A
lot of emphasis has been put on whom Bruce Lee actually
certified and what he certified them in. Your
thoughts?
Who cares? It’s not important to me so long as they know
more than me and are willing to share the knowledge. Their
certification doesn’t make ME a better student.
Dan Inosanto used to tell a story about certain Escrima men
meeting him for the first time. When they would ask, “What
do you do?”he would begin to list his credentials— who he
had studied with, in what styles he had achieved what rank,
etc. They would stop him and say, “No, no. What can you
do?”The point being that they really didn’t care what he
had studied and with whom and whether he was certified.
None of that has any impact on one’s own ability to learn,
assimilate and do. Who was Leonardo da Vinci’s teacher?
Name one of his students. Leonardo’s ability and genius
were his, and, despite the fact that, in the visual arts,
there are some very real techniques that can enable anyone
to be a pretty competent painter, for instance, there is no
Leonardo da Vinci school of painting with certified
instructors passing along the wisdom of Master da Vinci in
the prescribed way and churning out Mona Lisas ad nauseum.
Why do we expect it to be different in the martial arts, an
area where personal ability as a fighter or teacher is even
more telling to the final result ? My thoughts are that the
question reflects a reality that — despite all of the
progress away from it that can be laid at the door of Bruce
and his students — the martial arts community is still
embroiled in the “classical mess” and, as yet, just really
doesn’t get it.
How
has Bruce Lee’s philosophy affected you in a positive
way?
Of course, I never met the man, so what I know of his
philosophy I have gleaned from his edited and published
writings, interviews and the impact he had on the people I
have met who knew him.
Steve Golden and Dan Inosanto have influenced me to try to
be a nicer person. Really, almost all of Bruce’s students
seem to be inordinately nice folks. Bruce’s drive and
intensity has been an inspiration. His writings have shown
me that it’s not all bad to be somewhat left-brained and
analyze the subject of your passion thoroughly, so long as
you balance that reasoning of the higher mind with passion
and input from your senses, and keep your analysis from
creating paralysis when it is time to do. The higher mind
has a place in all things, but it is the heart and the
lower reaches of our mind and senses — what I call “The
Beast” — that has been wired for millennia to help us
achieve our goals and desires. In “The Happiness
Hypothesis” Jonathan Haidt refers to this dichotomy as the
trainer/rider (higher mind) on an elephant (the lower mind
and senses). Surely the elephant doesn’t have to do as it
is told by the trainer/rider and won’t if it is not treated
well and trained appropriately. But, if it’s needs are
understood and met and it’s input heeded, the elephant can
be trained and the rider and elephant can become a truly
awesome team — a true example of the principles of Yin and
Yang at work. Bruce Lee’s writing indicate to me that he
had an intuitive grasp of this reality.
Do
you think The Tao Of Jeet Kune Do is a good representation
of Lee’s art?
Is a black and white photograph a good representation of
the person? It’s accurate as far as it goes, but a color
photo might be better. How about a movie with the sound
turned off? Also good, and maybe even better than the color
photograph, but no one would claim it was the real thing.
Sound would make it better, but it still falls short of the
reality.
Unfortunately, the only true and accurate representation of
Bruce Lee’s art was Bruce Lee himself. Trying to
reconstruct it in our minds from the Tao, his movies and/or
one or more of his students’ memories is like the exercise
of the three blind men trying to describe an elephant, each
while touching a different part of the animal: They all
accurately report what they experience, but the picture is
incomplete. The more input one has, the more accurate the
representation.
I like the Tao. “Bruce Lee’s Fighting Method” by Lee and
Uyehara says some good stuff and has some excellent
photographs. I also like the other books from Bruce’s notes
compiled by John Little. Bruce’s films are also very worth
studying to learn more about his art. The moves within may
have been jazzed up a bit to make them more dramatic, but
the underlying precepts are all Bruce. The Longstreet
episodes are really good lessons. Of course, anytime any
one of Bruce Lee’s students wants to tell me what they
think Lee was trying to tell them, I will definitely be
paying attention.
But in the end, getting at what Bruce or his students or
his movies or his writings (as edited by others) have to
say about the martial arts isn’t what it’s all about. All
knowledge is really self knowledge. All of the above can be
helpful in giving me many of the pieces to construct my own
understanding of my martial art, but ultimately, it’s up to
me to fill in the blanks for myself and make it my own.
Reconstructing Bruce’s art does me no good. I must
construct my own.
What
most bothers you about the JKD
community?
Occurrences and attitudes which evoke questions similar to
the next one.
Dan
Inosanto has been ridiculed over the years for his somewhat
abstract way to teach Jeet Kune Do. Your
thoughts?
Teaching, in fact, communication of any kind using words,
is an exercise in abstraction. If I write the word “tree”
it conjures a certain image in your mind. If I instead
choose to write TREE is the meaning really any different?
How about Tree? Or TrEe? What if I draw a picture of a
tree? How ‘bout if I show you a photograph. In all these
cases I’m communicating the same thing, but my style is
just a bit different. Different styles of communication
work better with different people. Some are visual learners
and would appreciate the photo. Some are aural learners and
respond to the spoken word. Some prefer their data in
writing. Some may be off put by my handwriting and find
someone else’s more pleasing.
But none of these modalities accurately represent a real
tree. A tree is that thing growing out in the woods with
bark and leaves (or maybe needles) and various size
branches and roots, and no two are exactly alike. So, to
understand the idea of “tree” does one have to travel the
known universe and experience every individual tree or can
we accept that the word “tree” will be a mutually agreed
upon shorthand for the actual thing at this place and time?
It’s a symbol and all symbols — all words, all constructs
that are not the actual thing — are abstractions.
Each of us finds our own style and are attracted to the
style of certain others. But the student who fails to
recognize that the symbolic style of any instructor is
never intended to be mistaken for the actual thing is a bad
student.
Doing Chi Sao or Hoobud or Heaven Six or side kicking a
shield or tapping out is not a real fight. Most sparring is
not a real fight. If all a martial arts instructor ever did
was no-holds-barred, all out real fighting with their
students, there would be very few living and uninjured
students or teachers.
To teach a fighting art, and live to enjoy it, we must
abstract it to some degree. Some get very close to reality
and have the war wounds to show for it. But unless you
believe that there are secret fight clubs around the world
sponsoring death matches, then you know that the vast
majority of all martial artists are using some level of
safety practice, whether it be rules, equipment, drills or
exercises. Such practices are not reality. They are an
abstraction.
Criticizing Dan Inosanto, or anyone else, for doing what
everyone must do in one form or another is just bickering
over style. The teaching style is just a finger pointing at
the moon. Focus there and one misses all that heavenly
glory.
How
often do you teach and how many students do you
have?
I teach twice a week and currently have 6-8 students.
What
do you look for in prospective students?
I guess the traditional answer is, “A willingness to empty
their cup and accept the tea I offer.” Of course, the real
question is, “What the heck does that mean?”
To me it includes the desire to learn. To learn one must,
first, accept that one does not know, or at least does not
see things from the same perspective as the person one
hopes to learn from. One must understand that even if they
think they understand the subject, seeing things from a
different perspective enriches one’s understanding and may
even lead to new insights.
Too many students in the martial arts are less interested
in learning the art and, thereby, understanding themselves,
than they are about bolstering their own delicate egos.
They want the bragging rights of that next belt, or — and
this is really prevalent in the JKD/mixed martial arts
community — the next art under their belt. They don’t get
that wisdom does not necessarily mean to add and add and
add. They miss the point of simplicity: a daily
minimization instead of a daily increase.
Some come to class just wanting to show off for or dominate
their fellow students instead of helping them and thereby
themselves. Some come desiring to challenge the instructor
or the information being taught: to prove how smart or
tough they are. These folks don’t last long in my class.
In a prospective student I look for a desire to grow and to
help others. An acceptance of one’s own strengths and
weaknesses. An acceptance of others and their positive and
negative attributes. I look for an assumption that what we
are doing in class has a purpose, even if they don’t yet
get what it is. I expect them to work hard and remain on
task toward that purpose.
I also look for a good sense of humor. The ability to laugh
at themselves and at my jokes about myself. Otherwise,
things get really grim.
Have you ever had to use JKD in real life encounters and if
so, how effective was the art?
Unfortunately, the answer is yes. In some instances I have
done so to protect someone else. I feel good about those
circumstances. In each case I was successful. In some
instances, I have chosen to do so to protect my own ego.
Physically, I was also successful: I “won” and they “lost.”
However, I was not so proud of myself in those cases and
wish I had found a better way to deal with the situation.
My experience has been that the average person on the
street is just not prepared for a physical confrontation,
so it’s pretty easy to deal with them. Of course, that only
makes sense. When one has spent many hours a week for many
years practicing a fighting art, it’s only natural to be
able to inflict damage on someone who hasn’t or, at the
least, keep from getting damaged. Big deal.
Who
do you respect in JKD in regards to second-generation
instructors?
Each and every one that I have met. They all bring a wealth
of experience which I don’t have and a perspective worth
listening to and investigating. I’m particularly grateful
to Cass Magda for blooding me up a couple of times and
always appreciating my warped sense of humor.
What
are your goals in your training and teaching of
JKD?
In training, my goals are to never get hit and to hit my
opponent when I feel like it. This usually involves
simultaneously accomplishing five things with each move and
at all times: evasion (get out of the way, off the line,
beyond the range of the attack; being aware of what he can
do before he is), defense (tight boundaries, or as Bruce
might say, offensive defense; awareness), attack (the five
ways), strategic positioning (ready for continued offense;
frustrating his attack and limiting his options; knowing
not only what he can do but predicting or programing when
he will do it) and , loading up my next attack. I’d also
like to improve my side kick, especially in the area of
bridging the gap in a non-telegraphic manner, to the level
where I could actually tag Steve with it. Everyone has to
have a dream. :-)
In teaching, if I can do for others what Steve Golden has
done for me, I’ll die happy.